Last of The Few
by TheCozmicOne
Summary: As the Clone Wars draws to a close, for two soldiers of the Republic, the real horrors of the war finally confront them.
1. Part 1

25/03/2011 06:06:36

**Title:** Last of The Few  
**Author:** TheCozmicOne  
**Timeframe:** Clone Wars (Year Three)  
**Characters:** OC's  
**Genre:** Action  
**Summary:** As the Clone Wars draws to a close, for two soldiers of the Republic, the real horrors of the war finally confront them.  
**Disclaimer:** This is Lucas's sandbox; I'm just playing in it.

* * *

**Part 1:**

Tellanroaeg, an almost hidden gem in the Outer Rim, similar to Tatooine in many ways, it had the luxury of majestic oases doted around the planets surface as well as a large sea. This is what brought the rich and the famous to this rough and ready part of the galaxy. Even in the early days of the Republic many would flock there to sample the alleged healing waters of Tellanroaeg.

Though the myths of the water**'**s power had died down, it did not stop the tourists from descending on the numerous resorts that still offered healing and sanctuary to those who could afford it.

Of late, the beauty and the tranquillity had gone, healing replaced with war and death, resorts and hotels burnt in the sunset. Twisted metal that was once battle droids of the Confederacy and the blood-spattered remains of the Republic**'**s finest now littered the lifeless crater**-**filled deserts.

Having been forced out of the Core after a series of key victories for the Republic, General Grievous retreated out to the Outer Rim. Encourage by the Separatists' seemingly rapid retreat, Chancellor Palpatine mobilized nearly the entire GAR to the Rim with orders to lay siege to the CIS bases in the hope that a steady siege would collapse the Separatist strongholds and force the Confederacy to surrender. And so Tellanroaeg, being one of the worlds in the hands of the CIS, was now part of the Outer Rim Sieges.

Both sides had dug in deep, since the start of the Sieges. The planet lacked any real strategic advantage to either, but what brought the Clones out here was a Republic medical facility on the Anglini Plateau and one that the CIS was not going to let go of easily.

Seth Farwell could see the facility quite clearly from his trench, or what was left of it. For weeks now his unit had been bombarding the oasis complex that housed it. Most**,** if not all the buildings and foliage of the oasis was nothing more than burnt rubble, it frighten the young Jedi how much the enemy was taking from his battery of AT-AP's. To have such thoughts was against his beliefs.

"At this rate," Farwell said to no one in particular, "there will be nothing left to liberate."

The Clone Lieutenant under his command nodded in agreement.

"Do you ever get the feeling that we're wasting our time out here, do we really need this forsaken med centre?" the Jedi frowned as he spoke.

"An order is an order, Sir," answered the Lieutenant.

"Do you ever question your orders," Seth stopped and rolled his eyes, "never mind stupid question."

CL-1983 remained silent.

Seth sat back down and returned to his rations.

There wasn't much to do out here apart from eating, sleeping, maintaining the Attack Pods and guarding the post. For weeks now, nothing had happened; nothing had moved in no man's land, everything was silent and eerie. For most Jedi, this would be a good time to reflect and meditate, to hone their skills with the saber, and truly use the time to connect with the Force. This Jedi Knight could not be bothered with any of that.

He just wanted to get this job done and go home, as of right now Seth did not care about the ways of the Jedi. He stopped being one once the war had started.

_"This is no place for a Jedi"_ he thought.

This war had changed him, almost jaded him. From an idealistic child, Farwell was turning into a bitter young man.

CL-1983 looked upon his commanding officer mutely, his helmet concealing his expression of concern and curiosity. The lieutenant could almost sense the Jedi's feelings as they almost matched his own. He frowned, deep down he knew what he was here for, why he existed, but he could never shake the feeling of being different. In a way, he wished he could answer Seth's question.

Yes, he did question his orders.

Straightening himself up, the clone moved on to patrol the encampment. Slowly watching his men, he muttered to himself**,** "Mindless drones". As he continued his walk, CL-1983's attention was caught by a few of his soldiers working without helmets. He hated that his face was not his own and seeing it on all of his colleagues was unnerving. Sharing it with Fett was bad enough, how it must be for non-clones and the Jedi was not worth thinking about.

"You're alright? CL-1983?" a voice called over his shoulder, "you look like you're deep in thought."

"Hmmm?" He shook his head as if to wake from a deep sleep. The clone turned to see his commanding officer approach him.

"If you stood there any longer," smirked Farwell, "you'd been hit by a sniper droid by now."

In a flash, the trooper stood to attention "Sorry, Sir!"

"CL-1983, you can quit the formalities," replied the Jedi, still smiling. "How long have we been together?"

"Five standard months, sir."

"I think we've known each other long enough not to need to call me 'sir'," Farwell rubbed his chin in thought, "just call me Seth, though I can't say I know your name?"

"Other than my serial number, I have no other name."

Seth raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"My men and I have always used the last two digits of our serial number when addressing each other," the soldier tilted his head as if saddened. "General Rivas had never bothered to initiate the use of personal names in his regiment, other than Commander Dex, Major Tyrone and Captain Lea."

"Well, what would you like to be called then?"

CL-1983 paused for a moment to think, "Solus."

"Nice," Seth's smirk returned, "I like."

"Thank you, General,"the clone paused before correcting himself "I mean Seth."

"Solus I've got file to reports, so I'll leave you to your duties."

"Aye, Sir."


	2. Part 2

**Part 2:**

It came from nowhere. After days of inaction, the Separatist threw everything at the Republic frontline trenches and though it was day, all light was eclipsed by the dirt and sand that hung in the air. The sound of artillery fire and blood curdling screams echoed through the smoke.  
Farwell, surrounded by his men, fired upon the hordes of droids that came through the mist after the first bombardment. Constant blaster fire screamed over their heads like rain, it didn't matter since the trench that they made their stand gave them plenty of cover.

"Bet you're loving this, Solus?" he shouted over the sounds of war.

"This is what we live for, General."

The Jedi frowned "I wished I did."

Like an unstoppable tide, wave after wave B1 and B2 battle droids hit the besieging forces. Each wave cut down as if they were Rumble-pins. The intestacy of the attack was wearing Seth's blaster down.

"Fraaaag, don't do this to me!" he shouted as his weapon began to jam. Every time the Jedi pulled on the trigger, nothing but smoke and sparks departed from his weapon.

"Use this," said Solus as he threw a DC-15s side arm blaster at him.

Just as the fresh weapon reached the Jedi's grasp, his attention was captured by something through the Force.

"Get down!"

As the words left his mouth, the trench was hit by mortar fire. The ground shook with intestacy like never before, the sky was at its most illuminated, soldiers where thrown about. Sand, rock, blood, and fire rained down on the inhabitants of the trench.

For a few second Solus lay on his back, slightly dazed and paralyzed by a burning stinging sensation. Shrapnel pierced his suit in places; they felt like small rusted daggers against his skin, the pain was nothing new; he had been use to it since Geonosis. Blood masked his camouflaged armour. Solus didn't know if the blood was his or not, but that was an irrelevant thought and he knew it.

The clone looked up to see the battle still raging, fresh troops reinforcing the breach. What they were reinforcing looked more like a mass open grave than a trench, dead clones, and torn limbs everywhere. The dead resembled grotesque pieces of art to Solus, and the ones that could still move looked no better.  
He took some sick pleasure at seeing his fallen brethren; he didn't and wouldn't mourn their deaths like his brothers would.

"A few less of me, in the universe" Solus thought.

He caught a glimpse of his commanding officer, just as a doc arrived to tend after his wounds. If the medic wasn't blocking his view, it was still hard to make out how the young Jedi was holding up through the haze. Solus called out to him but his own voice was not audible, He couldn't even hear the medic speaking either.  
Pulling himself upright, the clone tried to reach out to Farwell. But there was no way he could have; the Jedi lead a spontaneous charge into no man's land.

Somehow he was still standing. Somehow he was still alive. Shock etched on his face, Seth Farwell stood knee deep in dead troopers. The sight of it brought back painful memories of past battles on countless other words. His hand went straight to his mouth to stop himself vomiting. After all this time he still wasn't use to the sight of the dead, at least not on this brutal scale. The Jedi stood for what felt like a lifetime finding it hard to look away because when he did, he was bombarded with more ghastly images.  
Snapping out of it for a second, Seth remembered his new brother in arms but was reluctant to use the force to search for Solus but he managed to spot the Lieutenant some way down the trench, he didn't seem to happy being harassed by the medic.

As he led the reinforcements to the breach, a Clone Sergeant shouted "General, get down!" The trooper wasn't ordering the Jedi, but shouting out of concern for his commanding officer.  
"Sir, if you stand there any longer, you'll get yourself killed." The sergeant paused next to Seth, and looked at him funny "Are you alright, Sir?"

"I'm," Farwell struggled to get his words out "fine."

There was a sick, wet, thud. The clone's head whipped backwards before his body slumped to the ground.  
Seth Farwell simply looked down at yet another dead clone, unaffected. He stood still for a few moments longer, his right fist slowly tighten as the rage within him became too hard to suppress.

"_There is no emotion, there is peace._ he repeated over and over in his head. Little soothing as the fire storm that engulfing him from within.

The Jedi Knight turned to face the next wave of droids, and let out a mighty bellow that almost drowned out the sound of fighting "Let's go!"  
His lightsaber was in his hands and activated even before he could think about it, and before he could reconsider Farwell furled himself into the battle field shouting "Charge!"


	3. Part 3

**Part 3:**

Seth flew through the dust and smoke like a mad Hrosma tiger, cutting down anything that stood in his way. Like a ball of pure anger and fury, the intestacy of his emotions fuelled his charge on the CIS units. Seth's saber swung and twirled like a blue blur, blocking any blaster blots that came his way. To an outside viewer, it would look like the Jedi was performing an aggressive dance with his foe.

Taping into the Force like never before, Seth Farwell felt at his most powerful, like an unstoppable god reaping his wrath on the land. Not since he first learnt to the use it as a child, had the Jedi enjoyed using it as much as he was in this moment of unity with the force. The flow of energy the coursed through his veins, warm and tingling seemed like a euphoric drug.  
Only a few of the Clones had kept up with Farwell's charged; a numerous amount of troopers had been gunned down, though many more could not keep up with the speed of the General's attack.

"Come on men," he turned to his comrades. "We've got them on the run!"

As he spoke, a stray shot grazed his right shoulder, forcing him to stagger back a slightly. The pain was masked by the adrenalin rush he was on, if anything the anger the shot generated masked it further. He turned to face where the shot came from and with gritted teeth, carried on his attack.

Even with the Force, it was still hard for the Jedi to pick out any droids in the smoke. These lifeless, emotionless machines, felt somewhat separated from the ebb and flow of the universe, making their movement hard to predict. And the further he advanced, the harder it was to push the Separatists back. Running into more and more droids, Farwell looked around to find he was alone, with no cover.

_"Frag,"_ he thought _"this isn't good"_.

Four Super Battle Droids charged him with blasters blazing furiously, the Jedi could not block every shot and was forced to duck and twist his body to avoid being struck. His Force-fuelled adrenalin rush was coming to an end, and every move Seth made became harder. His arms and legs felt like laminasteel. As much as he tried to fight it, his breathing was becoming difficult, the dust and sand that hung in the air burnt his lungs. Though he was only grazed by the blaster shot, the pain was beginning to take hold. And painful it was, spreading into his entire right arm. To make matter worse for the Jedi, the smell of the cauterized wound hit his nose. In that second, it reminded him of burnt Shaak hind.

As droids crept closer upon him; Seth could see his fear reflected in their beady photoreceptors. In an act of desperation, with what strength he had left and with a hand gesture, he pushed them away through the Force. Their metallic bodies uplifted as if picked up by a strong wind, cleaning the air as the push took some smoke with it.

The simple move had given the Farwell some time but deep down he had a feeling he would not return to base tonight. The odds seemed too high, even to this Jedi.

"So this is my destiny?" He said aloud, to no one in particular.

Now on his knees and head hung in pity, his body slowly regained some of the power and hate he had before. But Seth pushed that back and meditated somewhat, but one sound he dreaded to hear came into earshot and broke his trance.

The sound of a rolling Droideka.

Seth Farwell shot up in a flash and was shocked to see not one, but two Destroyer Droids heading for him. He tried to get back onto his feet but even with this second wind of energy and determination, fear welded the Knight to the ground.

Though he had never seen them in the flesh before, the stories of the Droideka had been forever etched into his mind. Those stories were what stopped him from acting. The words he had just spoken echoed in his mind as he watched the droids unfolded before his gaze. Closing his eyes and taking one last breath, the Jedi readied himself for his destiny. The last thing he heard was the click of their powerful blasters, as they readied to fire.


End file.
